Dear Snape
by travelgirl
Summary: Someone is playing a prank on Professor Snape by sending him love letters from a Secret Admirer. And when Snape finds out who’s behind it, how will he repay them in the most evil way possible? Takes place sometime during GoF.


Dear Snape

_Summary: Someone is playing a prank on Professor Snape by sending him love letters from a Secret Admirer. And when Snape finds out who's behind it, how will he repay them in the most evil way possible? Takes place during GoF._

_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Harry Potter; I just like writing about them._

Professor Severus Snape sat scowling around the Great Hall, his meal forgotten, trying to figure out who had done it. Which silly, foolish little brat had sent him that absurd love letter, signed "Your Secret Admirer"? One of the Hogwarts students most certainly had a death wish, and when Snape found out who it was, he was sure he'd be perfectly happy to grant it.

He continued surveying each table in turn while he ate, searching for any female students who either glanced in his direction a little too much (which was once where Snape was concerned), or had that tell-tale dreamy facial expression. _In this case, _he thought bitterly to himself as his eyes skimmed the faces of the chattering students, _I can't discount the possibility that one of the students in my own house may be behind this, since I know how admired I am by all of the Slytherins. Perhaps one of them simply took it a little too far. _His dinnertime observations proved fruitless, however, as none of the girls whose faces he could see wore that love-struck expression, and any student who met his gaze immediately regretted it and looked away. After the meal, Snape returned to the dungeons to reread the letter to see if it offered any clues he may have missed.

"Cursed students," he muttered to himself as he picked up the letter, absently aiming his wand at the hearth. He sat down in front of the fire. And another thing! How in the name of Merlin had the little bugger managed to slip the letter inside his copy of _Moste Potente Potions_? He kept that book on his desk at all times for reference, but no creature, student or otherwise, was permitted to go near his desk, and the classroom was locked whenever Snape was not inside. Yes, this was quite a mystery, wasn't it? Well he _would _get to the bottom of it! With determination, he began reading the parchment for the third time.

_Dearest Professor Snape:_

_I'm sorry to tell you in this fashion, but I'm just too shy to reveal my identity to you. Professor, I'm madly in love with you and I just don't know what to do! Lately it seems like I exist purely to attend your wonderful Potions classes to feast my eyes upon your gorgeous body, _Snape cringed_ your hair, your eyes, the way you walk, everything. As you no doubt already know, you're not, generally speaking, the most popular professor at this school, but I just want you to know that there's one student out there who thinks otherwise, and there will always be a place for you in my heart._

_All my love,_

_Your Secret Admirer_

"Oh, please," grumbled Snape when he had finished reading. He had of course considered the possibility that this was probably just somebody's idea of a joke. That made more sense then someone actually being in _love_ with himIn any case, Snape resolved to discover the guilty party, if only to have something interesting to occupy his time apart from marking endless Potions essays and prowling the corridors. Potter and his sidekicks always had all the fun solving mysteries, and now it was Snape's turn. This could be amusing, after all.

He sat down behind his desk, scanning the letter over again, examining the handwriting and checking the writing style. He was just about to match the letter against some Potions essays he still hadn't marked, when he froze, suddenly remembering something he had done earlier that day. "That's right!" he said. "I was reading _Moste Potente Potions_ during lunch today, and the letter wasn't in it then. And the only class I taught after lunch was fourth year double Potions with the Gryffindors and Slytherins. Well, that does narrow things down, doesn't it?"

He went to the drawer containing the fourth year students' Potions essays that he hadn't marked yet, and began going through them, one by one.

-----------

"Oh boy, did you see the look on Snape's face during supper today?" Ron asked Harry excitedly up in the Gryffindor common room. "Eyes whipping back and forth at all the students. I'll bet he's _dying _to know who sent him that cheesy love letter!"

Harry was just as excited as Ron, but also a little worried. "Ron, do you realize what would happen if he found out this was one of our pranks? He'd have us on our knees begging for death by the time he finished with us." He took on a starry-eyed expression before continuing: "Still, it'd all be worth it just to see the look on his face."

"Yeah," sighed Ron. Then he smiled maliciously. "That'll teach the old git for treating us so unfair just because we're Gryffindors. Imagine, failing us on our Potions essays just because the ink was a little smeared. I mean, you could still read it fine! It's his own fault for giving us one night to do a two-foot essay on why sugar makes a Wolfsbane Potion useless. Of _course _the ink blotted, I was writing so fast I got a cramp in my hand halfway through!"

"And have you seen _Malfoy's _handwriting?" Harry added bitterly. "And _he _got top marks."

"Well, there's only one thing we can do under the circumstances," sighed Ron with mock resignation. "Pass me that roll of parchment, Harry. It's time for phase two of Operation Payback!"

-----------

Thursday afternoon meant another gruelling Potions lesson in the Dungeon. Snape was acting a little unusual today; he seemed quite preoccupied with the activities of the girls in the class, pacing around and scowling suspiciously at each of them in turn. Only Harry and Ron knew why: Snape was obviously hoping to discover the student responsible for the love letters. They sat in the second row from the front, busily adding ingredients to their Memory Restorative Potions, waiting for Snape to turn his back so Harry could use his wand to send the new letter onto Snape's desk and into his _Moste Potente Potions_ book. They kept meeting each other's eye, but didn't dare say anything about the letter, even if Snape was halfway across the room. Too risky. Their chance would come eventually.

"Mr. Longbottom!" The disgust in Snape's voice could not be mistaken. He swept to the back row where Neville sat cowering in fear. He towered over Neville, who was now trembling visibly, and just stood there a moment before thrusting Neville's Potion's text toward him. "Now, Mr. Longbottom," Snape said softly, yet loudly enough for the entire class to hear, "would you kindly read the first three lines of instructions to the class?"

Neville, his face red to the ears, looked at the page and began to read in a barely audible voice. "Uh…add the first five ingredients in the order given, stirring two circles anti-clockwise after each addition. Erm, then let simmer for--"

But Snape interrupted him. "Now then, would you care to explain to the class exactly why you have been stirring your potion _three_ times _clockwise_ after every ingredient?"

"I- I- just…I didn't--"

Snape rested his palms on the table and leaned forward, his face close to Neville's. "Mr Longbottom, tell me, how much humiliation can you bear before you finally get it into that thick skull of yours to read _all _of the instructions _first_?"

Harry and Ron glared at Draco Malfoy and his goons, who were grinning broadly at the whole spectacle. Pansy Parkinson wasn't even trying to hide her loud giggles. Then Harry realized that the entire class was preoccupied with the show in the back row, and he elbowed Ron to tell him that now was their chance.

"Gimme the letter!" he hissed. Ron fished it out of his bag and handed it to Harry, who pulled out his wand and whispered the Banishing charm. The letter silently sailed over to Snape's desk and slid under the front cover of _Moste Potente Potions_. Then they turned back to watch the scene in the back row.

Fortunately, Snape was finished with making an example of Neville, and turned to scowl at the rest of the class, growling at them to get on with their potions.

-----------

"Not again!" Snape said as the last of the students were filing out of class. Some of them turned around cautiously at hearing Snape's exclamation, but didn't stick around to ask any questions.

After dismissing the class, Snape had gone to his desk and seen a piece of parchment sticking out of his book. Thoroughly irritated, he had snatched it up and couldn't help his outburst when he saw what it was. Now he was retreating to his chambers to study it before supper.

This one was even worse than before:

_My Love:_

_I dreamed of you last night. You were wandering the streets of Hogsmeade, late at night, calling out my name. I heard your calls and I answered, but we couldn't find each other. At long last, we met around a bend, and embraced longingly, promising never to leave one another's arms again, for all eternity._

_Professor, I grow fonder of you with each passing day. I can't imagine a world without you. My love is like a blessed illness, and if Madam Pomfrey had the cure, I would refuse it, for such suffering has never felt so sweet. _

_Until our next Potions class,_

_Your Devoted Secret Admirer _

This perseverance was quickly becoming an annoyance, but Snape was also a little intrigued. He fully intended to discover the identity of the sender; no snivelling, presumptuous little student could outsmart _him_! His earlier attempt at matching the handwriting to the fourth year essays had not been successful; whoever had written the letter had sufficiently disguised their handwriting. He tried again to spot a guilty-looking student in the Great Hall during supper, without success. He returned to the dungeon again afterward, but couldn't spend any time with petty love letters; he had a lot of marking to do, which he had been putting off.

By 10:30 that night, Snape was too tired to concentrate and still had a long way to go with marking. _Only one more day until the weekend, _he reminded himself. He decided to take a short walk around the school to wake up a bit and clear his head.

He encountered Mrs Norris in the Charms corridor, and resisted the temptation to kick her out of his way. Grimly, Snape realized that his dislike of Mrs Norris was one issue where both he and the students saw eye-to-eye.

After an uneventful twenty-minute stroll, Snape began making his way back to his chambers to finish marking the dreaded Potions essays. Most students probably didn't realize that professors hated marking assignments more than students hated writing them.

He was walking along the corridor towards the stairs leading to the Dungeon, when he stopped dead in his tracks, hearing voices around the corner behind him. He was just about to turn around and march resolutely after the sound, delighted at the prospect of catching students out of bed, when he halted, catching a fragment of what the voices were saying. He listened, transfixed, for several moments. No, it couldn't be! But this was too perfect...

A malicious grin slowly spread across Severus Snape's face.

-----------

Harry and Ron didn't dare say a word about the letter after Potions until they were back in the Gryffindor common room. They did talk about how unfairly Snape had treated Neville, however. Humiliating him certainly wouldn't make him perform better. Four years of humiliation at the hands of Snape, with no improvements in his grades, attested to that.

They sat with Hermione in the common room, getting started on the Transfiguration project Professor McGonagall had assigned that morning. Soon however, Harry and Ron switched the subject back to their prank today.

"Ron, that letter you wrote was brilliant!" Harry said quietly so that only Ron and Hermione could hear.

"I know." Ron didn't hide his pride. "It's a shame no one can ever know about it. I could be famous with such talent! I bet even _you _couldn't top such a clever letter, Hermione."

"Don't be silly, of course I could," Hermione retorted. She frowned, returning to her Transfiguration notes. "But I told you, leave me out of this, I want nothing to do with your kamikaze pranks. I'm telling you, Snape would have your heads as trophies if he ever found out!"

"Maybe so, but he'll never find out unless _somebody _rats on us. Hermione," Ron said.

"Of course I won't rat on you, but that doesn't mean I don't think you two are making a very _stupid _mistake."

"So, what have we in mind next for old Snape?" Ron asked Harry, ignoring Hermione.

"Well," Harry began carefully, "I think we should give it a rest for at least a week or so. I mean, Snape's not stupid. He'll have us figured out in no time if we send him a new letter every single class. Besides, we really should catch up on our homework for now. Look, Hermione's half done her notes for the Transfiguration project, and we haven't even begun yet!"

The trio made their way to the dining hall for supper that evening. Snape looked more sour than usual, glancing around at the students.

"Don't look at him!" Harry hissed when Ron wanted to turn around and see the effects of their handiwork. "He'll know it was us if we do anything out of the ordinary, and we would _never _turn around to look at Snape during supper, right?"

"Yeah, you're right," Ron agreed gloomily. They returned to the Gryffindor tower after their meal, to start working on their History of Magic essay and their Herbology assignment, both due the following morning.

Their History of Magic essay took longer than they had expected, so they didn't get around to starting their Herbology homework until 10:00 p.m. They were unrolling long rolls of parchment to begin the assignments, when Harry suddenly swore loudly.

"What is it?" Ron asked, alarmed.

"Oh, no!" Harry groaned. "Look at the instructions! It says that in order to complete the homework, we have to read either chapter ten of _Poisonous Plants of Britain and Their Antidotes_ or chapter four of _An Encyclopaedia of Lethal Herbs_. But _both_ those books are in the library, and the library's closed!"

For a moment they just stared at each other. They both knew that late homework meant zero. Then, simultaneously, they turned and shouted, "Hermione!"

As they had expected, Hermione refused to help them in any way whatsoever with their homework, saying that they had had a whole week to do it and shouldn't have been so preoccupied with playing stupid practical jokes on certain dangerous professors all week long. They knew there was only one option, apart from failing.

Concealed beneath Harry's Invisibility Cloak, Ron and Harry headed for the library. Thankfully, they met no one on the way, not even Mrs Norris. In the library, Ron grabbed _Poisonous Plants of Britain and Their Antidotes_ while Harry sought out _An Encyclopaedia of Lethal Herbs_. They reminded themselves that the books would have to be returned before class the following morning, before Madam Pince discovered them missing.

They made their way back to Gryffindor Tower as quickly as they could, muttering about their carelessness the whole way.

"Hermione was right, you know," Harry admitted defeatedly as they passed the staircase leading down to the entrance hall. "We really should have started this homework earlier instead of thinking up fancy love letters to get back at Snape."

"Yeah, you're right Harry," Ron said. "Okay, let's forget about it for now, and get back to it next weekend. We'll write one or two more drippy love letters, then end it with a letter that says she's gotten over him, and is moving on with her life."

"Good idea," said Harry. "Poor old Snape, I bet he'll be sad when it's all over and it's back to being despised by every student in the school again."

They laughed about it all the way back to Gryffindor Tower.

-----------

Snape stood transfixed in the corridor, listening intently to the words being spoken around the corner.

"We really should have started this homework earlier instead of thinking up fancy love letters to get back at Snape."

_Potter? It can't be, _Snape thought to himself.

"Yeah, you're right Harry," came a second voice.

It _was _Potter! And Weasley! _Those two little buggers, don't they ever know when to quit? Well, this is one prank they are NOT going to get away with! _He continued listening to the conversation, their voices growing quieter as they moved away down the corridor.

"Poor old Snape," came Potter's voice. "I bet he'll be sad when it's all over and it's back to being despised by every student in the school again."

Oh, they were _asking _for it, weren't they? And Snape was more than willing to deliver. He heard their laughter as their voices died away. He was already devising his own plan for payback as he slipped over to the stairs and back down to his chambers.

-----------

The following day, Harry, Ron and Hermione were making their way to the Great Hall for lunch, Hermione scolding them for waiting until the last minute to do their homework. They barely heard her as their eyelids drooped lower. They hadn't finished the Herbology assignment until 2:00 a.m. the night before, and had had to get up at 6:30 to return the books to the library before Madam Pince arrived. They had resolved to leave the next letter for a week, and instead spend time catching up on homework.

The afternoon passed slowly for Harry and Ron. After lunch was Charms class. They were to practice common charms to be used in the kitchen, so the lesson was held downstairs in the Kitchens. Harry and Ron couldn't even perform a simple Cleaning Charm, which made the washing up do itself. They headed back to Gryffindor Tower after the lesson, Ron swearing that he could have done the Cleaning Charm just fine if he hadn't been so tired.

"Well, that's not my problem, is it?" Hermione said. "If you two hadn't been roaming the corridors for half the night--"

"Not again!" Harry and Ron said together, covering their ears.

The weekend passed uneventfully. Ron and Harry spent most of their time in the library, catching up on all their assignments. They forgot about Operation Payback for most of the following week.

But on Friday night, the two of them sat by the fireplace, planning the third letter.

"Okay," Ron began, "How 'bout something like 'My dear Severus, I know we were meant to be together. I think I was born in the wrong year. It's just not fair, why do the gods punish me?"

Harry chuckled. "Perfect! Say Ron, you're a natural at this kind of thing. Are you sure you aren't _really _in love with Professor Snape?"

"EEEEWWWWW! I'm going to kill you for that, Harry!" But Ron was laughing too hard to make good on the threat.

That same night saw Professor Snape in his chambers, planning his very own Operation Payback.

-----------

Their letter was finished by Sunday, and Harry and Ron agreed to send it into Snape's book on Tuesday, their next Potion's class. In Harry's opinion, this was their best letter yet; it was so sappy and pathetic that it would probably make Snape sick to his stomach. But they also decided that the next letter after this one would be the last, where the secret admirer would say that she had gotten over Snape. They were treading on thin ice with this prank, and had best quit while they were ahead.

Tuesday's Potions lesson came all too quickly as far as the Gryffindors were concerned. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat together on the far left side of the room, Neville being on the right. If Neville decided to melt any cauldrons or cause any explosions today, the entire class would turn to look, their backs to Harry and Ron, giving them an easy opportunity to send the letter over to Snape's desk.

Sure enough, halfway through the class, a familiar _boom! _issued from the right side of the room. As one, the class turned to see what had happened, as Snape strode over to find out what Neville had done this time.

Harry quickly took out the new letter and, ignoring Hermione's whispered protests, muttered the Banishing charm incantation. The letter sailed effortlessly through the air towards Snape's book.

But then something else happened.

Half way to Snape's desk, the letter suddenly stopped mid-air. Harry and Ron barely had time to register what had happened when the letter flew off in another direction. They watched in horror as their letter sailed to the back of the classroom and right into Pansy Parkinson's book bag. Pansy was too busy laughing at Neville to notice.

"What the—" Ron began.

"Shh!" Harry hissed. The commotion around Neville was now over with. Snape swept back to the front of the class, his piercing gaze still resting on Neville.

"Mr Longbottom was very fortunate that he wasn't the death of us all," Snape said silkily. "I think you can all learn from his mistake. You shall each write an essay about all of the possible errors that can be made which would cause this potion to explode, to be handed in on Thursday. Twenty points to the house of the student who finds the most possibilities." He looked in Neville's direction and gave a menacing smirk. "And you can all thank your good friend Mr Longbottom for this extra bit of homework."

Neville's eyes were fixed on the ground, his face a furious scarlet. The rest of the class groaned, except Harry and Ron. They were still in a panic over their letter being somehow redirected into Pansy Parkinson's bag. But with Snape now pacing around the room again, making sarcastic remarks about the Gryffindors' potions, there was no chance to talk about what had happened, and they had no choice but to carry on with their potions. Hermione pretended not to have seen what had happened, and continued mixing her potion with a very superior expression indeed.

As Snape passed their table, Harry looked up and their eyes met. Snape held Harry's gaze for a split second, then gave him a particularly evil smirk, a look of great satisfaction in his eyes, before moving on to the next table without a word. At that instant, Harry knew exactly what had happened. Snape had somehow discovered that he and Ron were behind the letters, and this was how he had chosen to repay them: by using some type of charm to send their ridiculous love letter into the bag of a Slytherin girl who hated their guts and loved to humiliate them. Harry had no idea how Snape had managed to perform the charm while in the middle of berating Neville for exploding a potion, but he knew from experience that Snape was capable of just about anything. No doubt Snape had also used another spell to change the names in the letter, so that it would look like a letter to Pansy, from Harry and Ron. The second Pansy read that horrible letter, Harry and Ron would be the laughingstocks of the entire school. And as soon as Malfoy got wind of it, they would never, ever hear the end of it. They would be haunted by this stupid prank of theirs every single day for the rest of their years at Hogwarts. Harry shuddered at the thought. He had to get that letter back from Pansy before she discovered it.

He spared a glance over at Ron, whose thoughts were apparently following the same path as Harry's. He was extremely pale, and kept looking back desperately at Pansy Parkinson's book bag, as if willing the letter to fly out to safety. Snape passed their table again and growled at Ron to get on with his potion.

By the end of class, Harry had devised a simple plan to retrieve the letter. He would "accidentally" bump into Pansy on their way out of the dungeon and make her book bag spill onto the floor. Then perhaps he would be able to snatch up the letter before Pansy realised what was happening.

When the bell finally rang, Harry put away his ingredients as quickly as possible, untied the laces on his left shoe, and practically ran to the door so that he could leave at the same time as Pansy. Ron seemed to get the idea and followed closely behind Harry. At the doorway, Harry pretended to trip over his shoelace and stumbled forward, tackling Pansy Parkinson and sending her crashing to the floor. The contents of her book bag went flying everywhere.

Pansy shrieked at the top of her lungs. "Ahh! Get _off_ of me! Professor Snape! Potter's attacking me!"

But Harry didn't care. Before Snape could make it over to the doorway where Harry and Pansy were sprawled, Harry and Ron started sifting through Pansy's books looking for the letter. Pansy saw what they were doing and shrieked again.

"Potter! Weasley! Get up, both of you!" shouted Snape when he reached the doorway. He bent down and helped Pansy to her feet, who was practically in tears. Then he slowly turned back to face Harry and Ron, eyes narrowed, with such a menacing expression on his face that Harry was tempted to take a step back. He forced himself to remain where he was.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor, Potter, for deliberately attacking another student," Snape said softly. He turned to Ron. "Twenty points, Weasley, for searching through a student's belongings. Now get out of my sight, both of you."

Harry and Ron turned to leave. Malfoy, who hadn't left the room yet, called merrily after them, "Got a thing for Pansy, eh Potter? I don't think she's interested in blokes with great ugly scars across their faces!"

Knowing that responding to Draco's taunt would likely land them detention and another fifty points from Gryffindor, Harry and Ron hurried out of the Dungeon without looking back.

-----------

Snape watched them go, barely able to suppress a smile at the success of his plan. He was delighted at finally getting the chance to teach Potter and his little shadow a lesson himself. Rather than run to Dumbledore, who always made endless excuses for Potter's blatant disregard for the rules, Snape had decided to take matters into his own hands: he had placed a charm on his potions book, so that the next time Harry and Ron decided to send one of their ridiculous letters into it, the letter would automatically fly into Pansy Parkinson's bag instead. But the next time Snape went around to compliment Pansy on her potion, he had silently summoned the letter from her bag and concealed it in his pocket. Potter and Weasley didn't see him do this, however, so they still thought that the letter was in Pansy's bag, just waiting to be found. They would have a nightmare of a time trying to get it back from her, while Snape stood on the sidelines and admired his handiwork. That would teach the little buggers a lesson. With an inward grin, Snape headed up to the Great Hall for supper.

-----------

"Well, you two, what did I tell you? You just couldn't resist playing that _stupid_ prank on Professor Snape, and now you're getting exactly what you deserve," Hermione said as the three of them sat down in the Great Hall. She had been berating Harry and Ron ever since they had left Potions class. They didn't even bother to tell her to be quiet, because they both knew that she was absolutely right.

Harry looked over to the Slytherin table. Neither Pansy nor Malfoy and his goons had arrived yet. No doubt they were in their Common Room right now, having a grand old time reading the love letter and planning a multitude of ways to humiliate Harry and Ron for writing it. Harry's stomach was in knots; he didn't think he'd be able to bear what would happen when they came up for supper. The entire school would know within minutes. He glued his eyes to his dinner plate, awaiting the worst.

At last, the Slytherin gang entered the Great Hall and headed toward their table. Harry had to force himself to look up at them. But when he caught sight of Pansy, she wasn't looking in his direction at all. She was chatting with her friends like nothing was wrong. If she had indeed read the letter, then all of the Slytherins would be mercilessly tormenting Harry and Ron by now. Harry felt his heart leap; Pansy must not have discovered the letter yet! Maybe there was still some hope of getting it back before she found it!

He turned to Ron, excited. "Look! Pansy's not acting differently at all! I bet she hasn't found the letter yet!"

Ron had noticed too. "You're right, Harry. And look, she has her bag sitting under the table. The letter's probably still inside!"

"I've got an idea!" Harry whispered. He took out his wand. He was very good at Summoning Charms by now, after practising for the Hungarian Horntail. With his hand under the table, he pointed his wand in Pansy's direction and whispered, "_Accio_ letter!" Nothing happened.

"Let me try," said Ron. "_Accio_ letter!" Again nothing happened. "I don't understand, it should be working. You try, Hermione."

Hermione looked scandalised. "I don't want anything to do with this. I _told_ you not to mess with Snape, and you didn't listen. Why should _I_ risk getting in trouble for a mess that _you_ _two_ created?"

Thoroughly irritated with Hermione, Harry pointed his wand at Pansy's bag once more, concentrating as hard as he possibly could on the letter inside. "_Accio letter_!" he said, thinking that it must certainly work this time.

But something else happened that Harry did not expect. The letter didn't fly out of Pansy's bag; instead, her entire bag flew out from under the table and across the Great Hall, right in to Harry's lap.

"What the—" Harry began. He was so surprised at what he had done that he didn't even realise that all he needed to do now was reach into the bag and pull out the letter.

Ron realised it, however. "Nice one!" he said, grabbing the bag from Harry and reaching inside for the letter.

"What did you _do_, Harry!" Hermione hissed frantically. "Ron, get out of that bag, you're going to get expelled!"

Pansy was on her feet within seconds, running over to the Gryffindor table and shrieking "Harry Potter's stolen my book bag!" at the top of her lungs. Professor McGonagall saw what was going on and stood up, summoning the bag from Ron's hands.

"Settle down, Miss Parkinson!" Professor McGonagall shouted as she approached the table where Harry and Ron were seated. The entire Great Hall had gone silent, every eye on the scene around the Gryffindor table.

McGonagall handed Pansy's bag to her and rounded on Harry and Ron. Harry was quite certain that of all the times he'd ever made her angry, this must surely be the angriest he'd ever seen her. Her nostrils were flaring like caves and her lips had completely disappeared into an extremely thin line indeed.

"Potter, Weasley, I demand that you explain yourselves this instant!" She said, loudly enough for everyone to hear. "What in the name of Merlin possessed you to steal Miss Parkinson's book bag?"

Harry had no idea what to say. He couldn't think of any possible excuse for stealing Pansy's bag, apart from the real reason, which he certainly couldn't say. Instead he muttered, "Sorry, Professor. It...was an accident." He knew how lame he must sound.

"It was no accident!" Pansy shouted furiously. "This is the second time they've stolen my bag, Professor. They did it this afternoon in Potions, too!"

"That is _enough_, Miss Parkinson," Professor McGonagall barked. She turned again to Harry and Ron. "Would you care to explain to me how you can _accidentally_ perform the Summoning charm?" She waited, and when Harry and Ron said nothing, she continued with a sigh. "Very well. thirty points from Gryffindor. And if you should ever do anything like this again, it will be one hundred points and a month's detention. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Professor," Harry and Ron muttered.

"I certainly hope so," Professor McGonagall said. She told Pansy to return to her seat and instructed the rest of the students to finish their meals, then returned to the Head Table with a final glare at Harry and Ron. The Gryffindors were all scowling at them as well, for costing their house thirty points. Harry and Ron, their faces a brilliant scarlet, stared straight down at their plates and continued eating, trying not to draw any more attention to themselves.

By the end of the meal, when most of the activity in the Great Hall had returned to normal, Harry spared a glance up at Snape, seated at the Head Table. He was wearing the most peculiar expression that Harry had ever seen: he looked—there was no other word for it—downright cheerful.

Harry made a sudden realisation. "That evil _git_!" he muttered.

"Huh?" said Ron, looking up from his plate for the first time since the incident with Pansy's bag.

Harry leaned toward Ron and whispered, "It was Snape who made Pansy's bag fly over here when I did the Summoning Charm. I should have known. It couldn't have been me that did it, I was trying to summon the letter, and there's no way that I could have summoned the wrong thing by mistake. No, it was _him_."

Ron looked over at Snape and saw the expression he was wearing. "That greasy, nasty, evil slime ball!" he said angrily. "We've got to get him back for this, Harry."

"Ron, are you _insane_?" hissed Hermione, who had overheard their conversation. "It's Snape who's getting _you two_ back for what you did to _him_, remember? It would be pretty silly to get revenge on someone for getting revenge on you, don't you think? Not to mention the fact that you're first prank has already cost Gryffindor seventy points! Besides, I think we now know who's better at payback, hmm? Just leave him alone and he won't have any reason to torment you anymore."

Ron looked at Hermione incredulously. "Where have you _been_ for the past four years, Hermione? Don't you know that Snape doesn't _need_ a reason to torment us? He'd do it just because it's Tuesday!"

"Maybe so, but he wouldn't be doing _this_ to you if you hadn't written those stupid letters. You two brought this on yourselves."

"Gee, thanks for the support," grumbled Ron. They didn't say anything to each other as they made their way back to Gryffindor Tower after supper.

Harry didn't fall asleep for a long time that night. He was hanging onto the hope that Pansy still might not find the letter tonight, and that he just might have a chance to get it back from her during breakfast or Care of Magical Creatures the next morning. He went over several scenarios in his head for retrieving the letter before it was too late, and by the lack of snoring coming from the next bed, it seemed that Ron was doing the same thing.

He just couldn't stop thinking about how stupid he had been for pulling this prank on Snape. He should have known that Snape would find out about it, as usual; this was certainly not the first time that Harry had gotten the impression that Snape could read minds. But surely that couldn't really be the case. But if it wasn't, than how, _how,_ had Snape found out about their prank? Harry knew for a fact that it could not have been Ron or Hermione, and nobody else knew about the prank but the three of them. He slowly drifted off to sleep, wondering vaguely about what other hidden abilities Snape might have.

-----------

_This is all I've got so far. I've got a good ending planned, but I want to get some feedback before I decide for sure what's in store for Harry and Ron at the end of this story. Thanks to all for reading, don't forget to review!_


End file.
